Bohemian Rhapsody
by Sainte Matthewe
Summary: Sephiroth awakens and is tried for his crimes


"Bohemian Rhapsody" 

"Bohemian Rhapsody" 

By Sainte Matthewe 

Author's Note: Final Fantasy VII and all related characters are property of Squaresoft. Not me! Words and music for "Bohemian Rhapsody" are copyright 1970-something by Queen. I would also like to note that this is sort of my take on the character of Sephiroth. I thought perhaps he was a nice, if stand-offish guy before the Niblehelm incident, and his subsequent "madness" was a result of Jenova taking over his mind. Just as a warning, it does tend to tug on the emotions a little bit. Well, uh… I hope you like my little story. 

Is this the real life? 

Or is this just fantasy 

Caught in a landslide, 

No escape from reality. 

Open your eyes, 

Look up to the skies 

And see… 

I'm just a poor boy; I need no sympathy, 

`Cause it's easy come, easy go, 

Little high, little low, 

Any way the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me… 

To me… 

Sephiroth was suddenly conscious of something warm and wet spilling over his gloved hands, and a harsh voice whispering coldly, "Game over, bitch." He blinked away the sleep that clouded his eyes, and looked down, really seeing for the first time in what seemed like forever. The atrocity that greeted his awakening both astonished and horrified him, this seasoned SOLDIER. 

A pair of black clad hands (my hands?!) were choking the life from a battered and bloody blond, seemingly of their own violation. Sephiroth exerted his formidable (Was it really that formidable?) will, and commanded those hands to stop. As he sagged to the ground, gore bubbling over his lips, the Tree of Life insignia on the blonde's belt made itself visible to his still standing and befuddled opponent. 

"He was a SOLDIER," said that harsh voice, no longer icy as it rose to Sephiroth's ears. "But why would I want to kill my own subordinate?" All of a sudden, it dawned on him that this voice, warn by maltreatment, was his own. 

Pressing callused palms to his temples, he moaned aloud, "Oh, gods! What have I done?" 

Mama… Just killed a man… 

Put a gun against his head, 

Pulled my trigger, now he's dead. 

Mama, life had just begun, 

But now I've gone and thrown it all away! 

Mama… Ooooh… 

Didn't mean to make you cry! 

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow, 

Carry on; carry on… 

As if nothing really matters. 

Two weeks had passed since the sleeper had awakened in North Crater, and now, the once great warrior Sephiroth sits alone in his dank dungeon, somewhere deep in the bowels of the ruined Midgar. As the wind grumbles down the deserted corridors, he can only brood over the sad story he was told, in which he was supposedly a major player. He still doesn't understand it. His thoughts run in disturbing circles. Why can't I remember this? Who is Jenova? Why would I murder my only friend's girl? What is the Black Materia? What am I? (Who am I?) 

Too late, my time has come. 

Sends shivers down my spine; 

Body's aching all the time. 

Good-bye, everybody. I've got to go. 

Gotta leave you all behind, 

And face the truth… 

Mama… Ooooh… 

I don't wanna die, 

Sometimes wish I'd never been born at all! 

Kalm. It's the only place where I'd receive anything close to a fair trial. 

Sephiroth gazed about at the mobs of people that lined the streets, trying to get a glimpse of this one of a kind villain. Although the little stroll from the armored vehicle to the courthouse was only a few yards long, it seemed to the handcuffed warrior to take hours. By the expression on the face of the incoherently terrified and rumpled drunk accompanying him, he felt the same way. 

I'm just a poor boy; nobody loves me. 

He's just a poor boy, from a poor family! 

Spare him his life from this monstrosity! 

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go? 

As he entered the courtroom, with its grim and unforgiving atmosphere, any hope he held in his heart disintegrated like a sculpture of ash in the wind. Despair weighted his heart as he took his place next to his lawyer. It grew heavier with each testimony. When he thought he could bear no more, a tall brunette took the stand. 

The shadow that formed on Sephiroth's soul as this woman spoke told him everything he needed to know. Although he had no memory of anything after entering that reactor five years ago, although he did not believe he could betray his training, he knew without a doubt, he did all those things that woman (Tifa?) spoke of. In that moment, he lost all pretense at dignity, held his head in his hands and wept. 

Back in his holding cell in Midgar, Sephiroth is alone with his thoughts. His sentence had long since been handed down by twelve grim men and women of Kalm. They had condemned him to death, (The moment I entered SOLDIER I was condemned.) but it wasn't the excruciating death he had handed so many others. They were kind enough to offer him a painless death by lethal injection (too merciful). 

Now, his last supper, a meal fit for a king, had been eaten. (I tasted only ashes.) The priest had prayed for his forgiveness. (Absolution would be sweet, but no one, not even God will give it to me, now.) The jailors, the witnesses, come for him now, to escort him down the last few yards he would ever walk. (The last few yards I will ever walk.) 

Into the lonely room he enters, and lays himself down on the gurney. (A bed of roses that should be a bed of thorns.) He waits silently for oblivion. His last thoughts occur to him. Would it have been so bad if the sleeper had never awakened? No. It would have been worse… 

Nothing really matters, anyone can see… 

Nothing really matters, nothing really maters to me. 

Any way the wind blows… 

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